Part 16 (1/2)
”Hm,” said Mary.
Silence fell as George and Angela Foster carried on eating. Laura watched them through the window, mesmerized by her own family and the contrast to the scene she'd left behind.
”How about opening another bottle?” said Mary. ”I think I'd like another gla.s.s.”
George looked up, aghast, as Angela frowned. ”Really, Mum? Do you think...?”
She trailed off as Mary gave her a stern look. George and Angela were not great drinkers, but Simon and Laura took after their grandmother. The idea that three people could get through more than a bottle at lunch clearly appalled George, whereas the idea in reverse appalled Mary. But George was a good son-in-law, and so, as Laura watched him fondly, he dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, stood up, and said, ”Of course. I'll just see if there's any...”
”In the wine rack, the Hamilton Russell,” Mary said firmly. George crossed the sunny dining room and disappeared into the tiny kitchen through the corridor.
”Lovely.” Mary looked pleased. ”You know, after lunch I think I shall sit outside and do the crossword for a little while. It's such a beautiful day.”
”Yes,” said Angela, though it was clear she was actually thinking, No, you should have a nap and a gla.s.s of water. ”I wonder where Laura is,” she said out loud. ”Her text message did say she'd be back from Naomi's by lunchtime, didn't it?”
”Naomi. Yes,” said Mary musingly. ”Funny. I've never heard her mention Naomi before. Have you?”
Laura hurried across the lawn and through the French windows. ”h.e.l.lo,” she called, putting her bag on the floor as her father appeared with the wine.
”Laura!” said Angela, her face alight with pleasure. ”Here you are, and there's still some lunch left. Ratatouille, you like that, don't you? Would you like some ham? Here, have this sandwich.”
They looked at Laura expectantly, as one.
”Did you have a nice evening, darling?” Angela said. ”How was Naomi?”
”Er.” Laura cleared her throat and stared at them.
”Bread?” said George, proffering the bread basket.
”Wine?” said Mary, pus.h.i.+ng a spare winegla.s.s toward Laura.
Laura cleared her throat again and ran her hands through her unruly hair. She was starving again-why was she so hungry all of a sudden?-but felt like a savage come amongst civilization and did not trust herself to form a full sentence.
”Thanks,” she said, and sank into the chair her grandmother pulled out for her.
”So,” said Angela. ”We were surprised to get your text message. But how nice. Did you and Naomi get to chatting, then? Reminiscing about old times?”
”Yes,” said Laura. ”Yes, we did.”
In answer to her mother's curious stare, she tried to expand.
”Because it was nice to see her.”
”Great,” said George, talking to his ham. ”Well, you missed the windmill this morning, Laura, but we've got some great news!”
”What?”
”Great! Laura, we've managed to get tickets to see the Seekers Tribute Band! The box office just rang to confirm they're holding them.”
”For me?” said Laura in a slightly strangulated voice. ”Oh-well, I-”
”They thought they might be able to get you one, too, Laura. Come on, love,” said George. ”It'll be terrific fun. Oh, I know, they're not that popular with you lot”-he waved his hand in the direction of Laura and Mary, leaving Laura unsure whether he meant not popular with young people, old people, or merely people with ears-”but I promise you'll have a good time.” He stood up. Laura swallowed a remark in her throat.
”Mary, are you sure you don't want to come? We can get Laura one if she wants, there's one for you, too, I'm sure. Tickets are still available, you know.”
”What are the odds?” said Mary to her plate of ham. ”Amazing.”
”Yes,” agreed George happily.
”No, thanks,” said Mary. ”Just fantastic you can go, of course, and Laura, I'm so jealous. But at my age-whew. I think the excitement might be a bit too much for me, you know. I think I'd better stay in and get an early night.” She smiled serenely at her daughter.
”Excuse me a moment,” said Laura, pus.h.i.+ng her chair back and getting up. ”I'll be right back.”
She went outside, plucking her phone out of her bag, and texted: You were right. Going to Seekers Tribute Band tonight. Help.
Mary was standing up when she got back. ”I'm going to sit in the sun for a while,” she said. ”Enjoy the calm before the storm tomorrow.”
”Why?” said Angela, who was collecting the plates. ”What's tomorrow?”
Mary gave her a look. ”My birthday, Angela dear. Don't be silly.”
”It's on Sat.u.r.day, Mum,” said Angela.
”Oh.” Mary smoothed her gray hair. ”Oh. Of course it is. It's-it's Thursday today, isn't it. Yes.” She looked rather uncomfortable, her hand clutching the back of the chair. ”Silly of me.”
”Let me give you a hand,” said Laura, coming forward. Her phone rang in her bag. ”Oh.”
”You get that, darling.”
”No,” said Laura, thinking it could be Amy. ”Let's go outside. If they leave a message, I'll hear.”
”So, you had a nice time yesterday,” said Mary, walking slowly, her grip on Laura's arm tight as they went outside. She relaxed a little in the suns.h.i.+ne, pushed her sun hat on as she sat down again.
”Yes,” said Laura uncertainly.
”Did you hear all about the wetlands yesterday?” asked Mary. ”They're not that special, are they? Personally, I've always thought they were rather dull.” She fixed a beady eye on her granddaughter.
Laura breathed in as she met her grandmother's gaze. She could have just told the truth. There was nothing to be ashamed of; she was a grown-up, she could do what she liked with whom she liked. And it was hardly as if she'd actually done anything, anyway. She could just say, ”I met this nice bloke yesterday, he lives at Chartley Hall, and I stayed in his room but nothing happened.” But something stopped her. She breathed out again.
”It's funny,” said Mary. ”Xan and I, when we used to come here, do you know what we'd do?”
”No,” said Laura. She sat down next to her grandmother. ”What?”
”We'd read. And go for long walks. And watch films. Eat lots. Listen to the radio, do the crossword.”
”Nice,” said Laura, because it was, and she loved hearing Mary talk about Xan.